


corruptio optimi pessima (the fall of goodness is the worst fall)

by Altered_Karma



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Also working from the premise that all royals are related at some point, Ardyn was never the Chancellor, Do not repost, Fix It, For Want of a Nail, Gen, Luna POV, Luna is a BAMF and deserved better, So I just gave everyone Agency, and things spiraled from there, basically started with 'what if Ardyn had self-assigned himself as Luna's bodyguard?', but not via time travel, do not copy to another site, fix it like from the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 02:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20038567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Altered_Karma/pseuds/Altered_Karma
Summary: For want of a nail, Ardyn resents the Empire's proliferation of the Scourge.For want of a family, Ardyn sees his lover in a little girl, and a daughter in that.For want of a future, Ardyn defies his fate.For want of hope, Luna helps him.





	corruptio optimi pessima (the fall of goodness is the worst fall)

When Luna is four years old, her world echoes and shakes around her. Her mother and brother don’t seem to notice that anything is wrong, but for Luna it feels like the world is ending.

Years later, her wet nurse tells her how she collapsed to the ground, only to be caught by a man none of the royal family had ever seen. According to Maria, he cooed to her as he cradled her in his heavily clothed arms, before cautiously approaching the wary Oracle and murmuring something none of the staff.

All Luna remembers is waking up to a strange man with deep magenta locks reading a book about cos-mo-logy on her sofa nearby.

That, and the way that he smiled at her, stepped off her balcony ledge, and disappeared into the night.

Luna is six years old, and although she’s stopped trying to learn to fly, begrudgingly, she still thinks about the man who must have flown from her balcony. His hair is redder in her memory, than that of the man standing forlorn on the beach below her manor, but then it’s brighter outside than it is inside.

He doesn’t look at her, this time, not even when she yells to him from the floating island above. But when she leans a little too far and begins actually falling and not flying, a flash of red consumes her world, and she’s cradled safely in a vaguely familiar set of arms.

Panicked voices from above send servants and maids clucking like hens down the walkways, and the man, who must’ve moved quite fast to catch her, lingers only long enough to see her safely into their care, before disappearing once more.

When Luna is twelve years old, she and her mother try to save Prince Noctis and help King Regis. Noctis is charming, precocious, and utterly adorable, talking to her for long hours between therapy and healing sessions about his homeland, his Iggy, and his father. Luna is smitten with the child immediately, and promises him silently her eternal support. She squints at her brother and bullies him away from being a brat to their guests, but all in all life is wonderful.

And then that wonder dies and her world burns.

And for once, she wished the red-haired man would show up to save them.

But he never did.

When Lunafreya is sixteen years old, she becomes the Oracle, a position left empty four arduous years after her mother’s <strike>murder</strike> death. Shiva has been dead these three years, and Luna’s home has been conquered by a foreign country. Her brother has abandoned their home to become a lap dog of the empire, and it falls to Lunafreya alone to keep the hopes and dreams of her people alive.

She begins wandering the country, healing those she can of the blight that only dear Noctis can truly bring to an end. She barely remembers the story of the fuchsia-haired man, but occasionally on her journeys she’ll glimpse a figure in black, wearing a hat shielding his features, standing at the back or at a distance. He never once approaches, even though Lunafreya can feel the blight pouring off of him _<strike>why is he so sick why won’t he ask for help doesn’t he want help</strike>_, but he’s always gone before Lunafreya can approach him.

Ravus never smiles anymore, not even in the false way that they’ve been taught since childhood to utilize in public. He listens to her tales of their fading country with half an ear, when he bothers to see her at all in her captivity, so Lunafreya keeps the secret of the sick man to herself

When Lunafreya is eighteen, and she’s endured six years of the Empire’s overbearing scrutiny, she’s allowed to travel beyond the borders of her home country, to begin treating people in Niflheim. They’re sicker than even Tenebrae’s own citizens were, and she sobs when she starts encountering cases that she can’t cure.

Oh she can rid them of the blight, certainly, but the disease has worked its way so deeply into their person that removing it leaves them unable to survive on her own. The first time she heals someone only to have them drop dead at her feet, she flees the town for fear of retribution and her own shock. When she’s well and truly lost in the wintry wilderness outside of Gralea, she collapses down at the foot of a massive tree and begins sobbing.

A gentle pat on her arm brings her flinching out of the safety of her arms. The sick man is sitting a few feet away, holding out a handkerchief in one hand and a heavy jacket in the other. Once she’s accepted the handkerchief, he reaches around her to drape the coat over her shoulders.

Then, he opens his mouth. “You’re a long way from home, my lady.” His voice is teasing. “What, never encountered a problem you couldn’t fix?” He rocks back on his heels, and tilts his head up to the darkening sky.

His words, his tone, his entire carefree carriage has her tensing up defensively, her tears and sadness morphing into anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smiles at her, smarmy and fake. “You are many things, my lady, a chosen oracle of the Astrals, a force of hope and light for the people, a friend and confidante to that lonely prince of yours,” her heart seizes at the thought of this man harming Noctis, especially after what happened in her own country years ago. “But you, Lunafreya, are a human, and not even the gods can fix everything.” He stands up and begins wandering into the trees, picking what Luna thinks must be a random direction, arms outstretched. “So let go! Save those you can, and move on. Let the dead go.”

His voice fades as he heads into the trees, and Luna is struck with panic at the thought of being left alone. “Wait!” She stumbles to her feet, clutching the coat and the hankie to her. She chases after him through the woods, but every time she begins to think that she’s lost him, he waves at her from the corner of her eyes.

Luna chases him for what feels like hours, and by the time she emerges from the edge of the trees, the sky is totally dark and the man is nowhere to be seen. But there are people nearby, with flashlights and panic in their faces. They see her, and surge forwards.

“Lady Lunafreya!” “We’ve found the Oracle!” They bundle her up and bring her back to the warm house that had been giving her boarding while she remained in Gralea. After she’s finally assured everyone that she’s actually okay, she’s allowed to retire to her room.

Opening the door reveals her brother waiting by the small window the room has. He doesn’t turn to face her, even after she allows the door to slam behind her in her moment of absent-mindedness.

“Lunafreya.” He finally turns to her, but upon seeing her, still partially frozen and thawing, all words seem to escape him. Ravus deflates from his military posture into something more human, and Luna thinks maybe she’s not the only one who needs to remember their humanity. He stares at her, taking in her wet hair and the uncharacteristically dark jacket she’s wearing, and appears to not know what to say to her.

When was the last time they had a chance to truly talk? She moves over to the small bed she’s been using this past week, and sits on the edge of it. She motions for Ravus to do the same.

She talks, this time, but she talks about her travels, now, of how the people are suffering from a plague that no one acknowledges. How, for the first time, her gift and blessing brought someone to die, instead of bringing them back to life.

Ravus doesn’t say a word, but Luna can see how he listens, this time, how he takes her words in and processes them.

When he leaves, he still hasn’t said anything, but his hand is heavy and supportive on her shoulder, he pulls her in very briefly for half a hug. And then he leaves.

Luna wonders when she’ll be able to return the sick man’s coat. Or if she’ll ever get to learn his name.

When Lunafreya is twenty, she’s brown used to her patients dropping dead after a healing session, even though she doesn’t like it. She’s learned to not heal them all the way instead, to heal them only until the barest traces of the blight remain in them. She sets herself on a cycle, going from place to place and blessing the blight back into traces in turns.

She loses less people this way.

The sickly man still appears, still doesn’t ask for her help, but he hovers closer now. And, now that Luna knows what curing the blight will likely do to him, she doesn’t begrudge him his distance.

He waves his hat to her before he leaves, now, too, and she does her best to bow her head and smile in return. She doesn’t know why he’s following her around to her sessions, but he’s been here for so long that she can’t bring herself to think him capable of harm.

Some of her regulars start to recognize him, too, and sometimes she watches one she’s healed engage him in conversation before they leave. He’s always pleasant with them, from what she can see, but he never seems to linger in any conversations, and after the people have moved on to continue their lives he turns his eyes back to the horizon.

One day, when the sun is especially hot on her back and she’s waiting on Pryna to return with word from Noctis – apparently Prompto has finally decided to say something – the sickly man plops down next to her, under the shade of her tent. He nudges her shoulder and holds out a sandwich wrapped in paper.

“Nice day, isn’t it, my lady?”

Gingerly, she takes the offered meal with thanks and takes a tentative bite. It’s got fresh vegetables, a mild cheese, and some type of cold cut, and after a busy morning of healing and fretting in turn, it’s the best sandwich she’s ever eaten. She’s inhaled the whole thing before she thinks to reply to him. “Entirely too hot. I don’t know how you aren’t sweating out of your skin, fully covered and wearing dark colors like you are.”

That is absolutely not what she meant to say, but before she can really do more than gape in horror and apologize, the man starts snickering. Then he starts laughing, and when he moves into full on guffawing she joins him.

It takes a good minute for them to come down from their laughter. She wipes her eyes, then turns to look at him more fully. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t believe I’ve ever gotten your name.”

He tilts his hat. “Ardyn, my lady. Ardyn Izunia.”

_Ah, finally_, she thinks. “And, Ardyn, before I started seeing you around my healings, had we met?”

He knows what she means, she can tell. But still he shakes his head. “No my lady.”

“Uh huh. And you have been accompanying me around the world because?”

“Well it would be remiss of me to allow our Oracle to come to harm simply because she opted out of bodyguards while she travelled, no?” He plucks the empty paper wrapper out of her hands, and makes like he wishes to leave.

She’s enjoying the game too much, however, and grabs at the nearest bell-shaped sleeve. “Wait.”

He’s peering down at her, and is it just her imagination or does his gaze feel a bit colder? It warms back up, after a second, but she knows what she saw. “Yes, my lady?”

She lets go and places her shaky hands primly in her lap. “If you are going to join me anyways, why not be nearer?” Already, she can see afternoon patients milling towards her little tent. “It can’t be comfortable, standing out in the sun like that.” _Especially given how sick you are_, she doesn’t say, but somehow he seems to understand her intent anyways.

He sweeps his arms into a grand bow, hat hiding his face hair from her. “My lady is too kind, but I must decline.”

She grabs at the sun parasol she’s brought with her. “Then, please, at least take this, if you insist upon standing guard.” When he hesitates, she prods his hand with it. “It would make me feel better about it.”

He accepts it with a flourish, bows once more, and heads back out into the sweltering heat. Halfway to the enclave of buildings, she sees him swing the parasol open. Lunafreya turns to the people that have stepped under her tent.

Later that evening, in the privacy of a hotel room, with only Pryna, Umbra, and Gentiana to bear witness, she allows her guard to fall. “Why won’t he let me help him? Why on Eos is that man so determined to appear- appear, oh I don’t know, flawless?” She looks helplessly into Gentiana’s placid face. “I think that’s the word? He’s acting perfect, like nothing bothers him, even though I can see and feel the blight pouring and sloughing off of him like a spring.” She tugs on her hair in frustration, and ends up pulling it out of her styling.

Gentiana simply nods her head. “The plague’d man is but a mechanism in the scourge upon the star. He plays but a single role in the larger game.” She curls in her chair a bit, but not in a bow.

Luna tries to parse the underlying meaning to the messenger’s words. “You mean he’s different from the rest of the victims I’ve encountered? That he’s… somehow a tool for it?”

“The Oracle speaks true, but it is not by the plague’d man’s will that he enjoys such a position.” For how plain they are, Gentiana’s eyes can be quite terrifying when they are open. “The Oracle cannot treat the plague’d man as she does other men. A different hand is required.” She looks at the notebook that’s just come from Noctis.

It doesn’t take Luna nearly as long to understand _those_ implications. “Noctis? But, the kings of Lucis never had the ability… to heal…” But that’s not correct is it. There had been one king, once upon a time, who was said to have been a healer king. But that was before Somnus’ time, and every record indicated that the power had been lost with the brother. “Noctis can’t heal, can he?”

Gentiana shakes her head.

“So, what you mean to say, is that Noctis is to _kill_ him?” Her fury is returning, but this time on the behalf of Ardyn and Noctis. Noctis is not a killer, and Ardyn deserves to be saves. These are two immutable facts.

But when a messenger of the gods herself is telling Luna this… What can Luna, a human girl only afforded the prowess of the Oracle, do to change things.

_What, never encountered a problem you couldn’t fix_? Ardyn’s taunting voice calls to her across the years, a stranger then but still supportive.

No, no, this _is_ a problem she could fix. She just needs the right ear.

So she thinks, long into the night. Bahamut is with the Lucis Caelums, Shiva will listen, Ifrit hasn’t been seen for centuries, the Archaeon wishes to test, and the Leviathan despises mankind.

The Fulgarian, though…

When Luna is twenty-one, the empire begins making aggressive moves on the kingdom of Lucis. With the increasing terror comes a loosening of her leash, so she is allowed to travel the country West of Leide at her leisure.

There are less people to heal here, less of the blight, but people always need help, so she helps them. Ardyn loom as he always does, but Luna doesn’t get the sense that he’s aware of her plan. The only question, is whether or not to bring him with her to meet Ramuh.

Slowly, her entourage, consisting of two advanced MTs – as much for her protection as they are for her captivity – Pryna and Umbra, Gentiana, and Ardyn at a distance, moves closer to Fociaugh Hollow. There are two other keystones, but this one is the most active, according to the records she’d sourced.

They’ve stopped at Wiz’s Chocobo Post for the night, and according to their map they should make it to the hollow by noon tomorrow. Hopefully Luna’s plan to entreat a god to mercy will not fall short.

There aren’t many people who remain at the Post overnight, so for once Luna doesn’t find herself bound to maintaining an image. The MTs make the chocobos skittish, but they can’t get near the track lighting, so things are at a slightly tense standstill.

“I’m sorry, Miss Oracle, for the way my birds’re acting. Those robots of yours just make them nervous, see?”

She smiles politely at Wiz. “I understand. To be honest, they make me nervous as well. We’ll be gone come morning.” They wave goodnight, and Luna moves towards the camper.

Both Pryna and Umbra sit up when she approaches, and Ardyn, who has settled into a chair in her absence, peers at her over the top of his book. Gentiana thoughtfully moves a piece on the chessboard spread between them, and Ardyn turns to the board to contemplate his own move.

Gentiana turns to Luna while Ardyn is thinking. “Has the Oracle come to a decision on the matters of the Hollow?”

Luna allows herself to break decorum and slump into lawn chair. “No, and I don’t know what to do about those two, either.” She scrubs her hand over her face, and mourns the muggy heat that makes even the darkness of night unwelcoming.

“Well, might it behoove you to share your quandary with the choir?”

_He isn’t looking at her_, Luna thinks, _he really doesn’t know_. “I want to heal you, but I don’t know whether to take you along to plead your case to the gods, or wait for them to acquiesce before bringing you in.” She sees his shoulders tense; his book goes down, his shoulders go up, and while his eyes are focused on the chessboard she knows that all of his attention is on her. Gentiana’s too, as a matter of fact.

She holds her breath for three counts. _One, two, three_. “Ardyn, how much do you know about the Starscourge? Or even your place in it?”

Ardyn leans back in his chair, looks up at the stars, and sighs through his nose. “You really feel compelled to fix every problem you see, don’t you my lady? Didn’t I tell you that you can’t fix every problem, sadness, and suffering that you come across?”

That same rage she feels, every time a friend or loved one decides to do something stupid, surges up in her. “But this is something I _can_ do! Something I, me specifically, should be capable of!”

A laugh claws its way out of Ardyn’s chest, dark and bitter, painful sounding and entirely too cruel for the kind silly man she’s come to know. “What can a mortal, even a mortal who happens to be the oracle, do to change the fates the gods have determined for me? For you, for Noctis, for the world?”

Her fury simmers. “So you would just give up? Bring the world to darkness?” _Force us to kill you_?

“No, my lady.” Ardyn’s body slumps in exhaustion, and finally, _finally_, Luna sees the ways the sickness plagues him. “But I need to deal with the men who would before I go.” He looks up to her, amber eyes beseeching and sad and so, so ancient, yet burning with a fire so ancient Luna felt like she was looking into Gentiana’s eyes. “Let me deal with the men in charge of bringing the Scourge to its peak, and I will submit to you and Noctis without a fight.”

She growls audibly in frustration. “Urgh, you silly, stubborn man! That is not what I want. I want you to heal. Then you can get your revenge. Astrals, I’ll even encourage Noctis to come with you and assist! But please, let us try to help first, before you decide to give up.” She moves to kneel before him, a servant of the people.

He stares at her for a very long time. So long, in fact, that the dogs seem to grow uncomfortable with the silence. Pryna gets up and wanders over to the two of them, then places her white, fluffy head resolutely on Ardyn’s lap. Whereas Umbra is in charge of running between Luna and Noctis, Pryna had been tasked with keeping an eye on the man, and alerting them if anything should change in his condition. The two had become quite close, evidently.

Still, Adryn’s gaze does not leave Luna’s, nor does hers leave his. Not even when he gingerly lifts a handing roiling in darkness and cups her cheeks with it. She presses into it, determined, even though the pain and sinister nature of the corrupted magic burns her skin, hurts unlike any injury she’s ever received. The MTs, at a distance, come to nervous attention at what appears to be a threat to their charge, but no one pays them any mind.

“Please, Ardyn. I remember you helping me, healing me as a child.” _Let me return the favor_, goes unsaid between them.

He sighs, but Luna can tell that she hasn’t won him over yet. “Well, I certainly can’t stop you from trying, my lady.” He pushes at her shoulders, and when she moves, he stands and wanders towards their camper. “Might I recommend, however, not bringing me to the audience before the Fulgurian? It might only damage your case.”

Luna is more than happy with what she’s achieved tonight, and nods. “But, we might appreciate your assistance in the hollow.”

He bows and bids them good night. Come morning, miraculously, he is still with them.

Their journey to the hollow, for Luna, Gentiana, the two dogs, the two MTs, and Ardyn, is brisk, and they’re before the caverns entrance in just under two hours. The sun is just starting its nascent arch across the sky, and Luna bids it a silent farewell; who knows how long they were going to be in this place.

Daemons greet them shortly after the enter the embrace of darkness. Luna has the advantage with her holy magic, Gentiana wields a matched set of daggers, on enchanted with light magic and one with ice, like she isn’t wearing heels and doesn’t spend most of her days following Luna. Umbra and Pryna, messengers and mortal, work together as one to bring down their targets. Ardyn just eats the daemons, and Luna tries not to think of them as former living creatures. As for the Mts, well…

It takes a while to notice, especially with them fighting off daemons left and right, but something odd does eventually catch Luna’s eye. The further they get into the caves, the longer they spend in the dark and the less they spend in the light, the more erratic the MTs become. Their movements loosen up, their aim became more calculated, and they moved more and more like people instead of robots. They shot tactically, aiming for crippling shots rather than headshots. They dodge wayward swipes, and covered the backs of the rest of the group.

Most noticeably, however, was when the one with a gash on their shoulder plating banged its weapon, and under Luna’s and the rest’s incredulous eyes, sits heavily down on a rocky outcropping. Its fellow, distinguishable now by the dent in its helmet from a piece of debris that had clipped it, is the first to move over to the sitting MT and lay down its weapon.

Slowly, Luna joins them, kneeling on the ground before the sitting – exhausted? – MT. She looks with bewilderment to the other MT. “Are, are you two, uhm, alright?”

A terrible sound, like metal clawing metal, escapes the helmet of the standing MT. It- They seem to realize that the effort is futile, and shakes their head. Then, with what appears to Luna remarkably like a cursory glance at their surroundings, slowly reaches up to its- their helmet.

What appears out of the helmet is not a mess of wires and circuits, as Luna had previously thought present. But a boy. A blonde, sweaty, blue-eyed, utterly familiar boy.

Luna can hardly believe her eyes. “…P-Prompto?”

The boy who looks like Prompto shakes his head. “I am unit N-iP02367, ma’am. I do not know of this Prompto.” He turns to look at his companion, who, gods above, must be absolutely miserable in that armor. Luna, horrified, reaches out to pull the helmet from the resting figure’s head.

Another boy, identical to the first, appears from underneath. His eyes are closed, and his breathing is steady, but Luna thinks that the mere fact that he broke posture and sat is indication of how much pain he is in; not once, not even in the sweltering heat of Cleigne, did either of these two express any discomfort.

But, as Luna raises a glowing hand to the boy’s wound, Gentiana and Ardyn both stop her. When she looks up to them in question, Ardyn shakes his head. “You do that, and you really will kill them. Let me handle this one, my Lady.” And then Gentiana is gently tugging her backwards, as the darkness surges in Ardyn’s hands and alleviates the minutiae of stress Luna can now see in the boys faces. The sitting one – they’re going to have to do something, she can’t call them MTs any longer, not having seen their faces, and she won’t, absolutely _will not_ call them by numbers – doesn’t express any sort of emotion, but he does peer up at Ardyn with an expression that looks a little bit like glass.

Ardyn waves them all back over, and Pryna and Umbra immediately begin trying to get to their faces. “Now, then, boys. If things were so difficult for you, why haven’t you said anything?” His voice is admonishing, but he’s watching them with shrewd eyes.

The sitting one stands to attention as soon as he’s ascertained that his injury is well and truly gone. Standing side by side, they truly look identical, just a bit younger than Prompto and Noctis appear to be, in their most recent photo, but the formerly sitting one’s hair is much shorter, and frames his forehead instead of his whole face like the other. “I am N-iP02258. And things were not difficult before we entered this cave.”

Luna waves her hands before the conversation can move any further. “You keep giving us these designations, do you have names by which we can call you?” Her heart hurts when they shake their heads, and her heart has never hated the Empire more than she does now. “Well, then, we’ll just have to fix that won’t we?” She thinks for a minute. _Prompto, quick, ah yes, that should do it_! “I’ve got it! You, on the left, with the shorter hair, you shall be Citus, and you will be Celer! Does that work?”

They remain unmoved, but Luna can’t do anything more to press them for answers, because a pair of liches is pulling themselves from pools of darkness in the floor. They’ve lingered too long.

The boys snap their helmets back over their heads, and take aim.

When they’ve laid waste to the two waves of monsters that attack them, Luna decides they’ve fought enough for one day. She knows that places like these, dungeons, have havens built into them, and she’s determined to reach one.

As soon as she’s thought this, they turn a corner and see a mound of rock laden with blue runes. However, only Luna and the dogs seem happy to see it. Ardyn and the boys linger back.

“What’s- oh.” Of course. Ardyn is blighted, and these havens were built to keep daemons back. The boys, on the other hand… “Citus? Celer?”

Ardyn shakes his head. “They’ve been infected with daemon blood, my lady. They are no more capable of entering that haven than I am.”

“But the plague’d men will not draw the eyes in the dark, Oracle.” Gentiana speaks at last.

“So, it’s safe for them to stay near the haven?”

“’Tis the Oracle’s presence that draws so many daemons from the pit, and the Oracle’s alone.”

Luna doesn’t know whether or not to feel relieved at that. In the end, she decides on relief; if they’re safe down there without her, then that’s fine. She’ll take what she can get.

She’ll also set up dinner. The Lucis Caelums aren’t the only ones with magical armories, after all.

None of the fellows on the ground seem willing to eat, and Gentiana never eats, so it’s just Luna and Pryna and Umbra enjoying a contemplative meal, with the rest sitting and looking quietly on. 

When Luna has eaten all she can stomach, she sets the remainder on the ground for the dogs to finish off and turns to the boys. “Are you the same ones that have been with me for years?”

Celer peers up from his blank staring at the wall. “No ma’am. We joined you approximately four months ago.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

They hesitate. “We… couldn’t.”

“We only became able to after entering this cavern.”

“We were…” Citus doesn’t seem to know what to say. Celer doesn’t help him.

Luna thinks she understands anyways. “The empire has its ways of controlling those under its power. I’m assuming that includes the thousands of MTs it has.”

Celer, who is already looking to be the more expressive of the two of them, peers up in alarm. “We really weren’t people, ma’am! Something about this cave…” He looks around and shivers.

“Do the plague’d boys recall our purpose for venturing abreast of civilization?”

Celer shakes his head. Citus continues looking at Luna.

“It was for us to plea on Ardyn’s behalf,” the man waves, “to prevent a prophecy from coming to fruition.” They both stare blankly at her. “We came to plea a god?” Understanding dawns, in Celer’s jaw and Citus’ eyes.

Pryna, seemingly bored of all the talking, charges out the bounds of the haven, and circles happily around the boys’ feet. Umbra is content at Luna’s feet. “Yes. The Fulgurian, to be precise.”

“I’m still of the opinion that this effort is futile, my dear.”

“That’s fine, you may think what you will. It might even behoove you at this point to remain here while I go to converse with the god. Right after we’ve all gotten some sleep.”

Celer opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I do not know whether N-iP-“ He cuts off at Luna’s glare. “I do not know if Citus and I can sleep. Are capable of sleep.”

Luna starts pulling out the extra camping gear and is disheartened to find she doesn’t have nearly enough for all of them. Gentiana smiles and disappears for a second. When she returns she has two more sleeping packs that Luna takes with a bow, then hands down to the boys. She takes another and gives it to Ardyn, and finally, once everyone is settled up, whispers, “Good night, everyone.”

Come morning, only Luna, Gentiana, and their two animal companions set off for the bowels of Fociaugh Hollow. Ardyn, after seeing them off, immediately begins regaling the boys with stories of the outside world, which neither of them seem capable of recalling in any great amount of detail. The keystone in which Ramuh resides isn’t terribly far from the haven, but they can’t hear Ardyn’s voice by the time they see the stone. 

The stone looks inactive, but it’s the only place with sunlight in the whole of the hollow, which Luna assumes must mean something. Gentiana, Pryna, and Umbra hang back, so Luna is left to approach it alone.

“Great Ramuh, please. I have need of an audience with you.”

The stone remains inactive.

Luna summons her trident, stabs the prongs into the ground, and summons her magic into it.

She tries again. “Great Ramuh, please, I need to speak with you.”

The sunshine over the rock fades, and suddenly, a bolt of lightning strikes the stone. A presence like rolling thunder and a looming storm fills the cavern. A Voice filters into her head.

“_It is not yet time for the chosen King to fulfill the prophecy,_

_ why dost the Oracle disturb mine rest?”_

“My thanks, great Ramuh, for speaking with me today.” She gulps. “I have met the one bearing the burden of the Starscourge, the man responsible for it’s propagation and the man whose death will bring about the end of the scourge.”

_“You have met the Adagium?”_

“Yes. And I have heard his story. I have come to plead to you, help me heal him. Help me prevent the scores of death and destruction that continuing on Fate’s predetermined path will bring upon the world. Please, I beg of you.” Clutching her trident, she bows low before the stone.

_“Why should we save the man that belays us?_

_Why should you wish to save the man that endangers your world?_

_What dost the Oracle hope to accomplish with this plea?”_

“I hope to save a man who wished to save his people. I hope to prevent tragedy befalling this world.” She doesn’t allow her traitorous thoughts to turns against the Astrals, although she might indulge later. “I hope to be able to continue helping the people of Eos, and I won’t be able to do that if I die in three years.”

_“The Oracle asks for much.”_

“If we can solve this, then the Oracle,” and never has she detested being viewed by her title more than she does in this moment, against a god who doesn’t appear to care for the fate of the world his fellows have more or less doomed, “will never need to call upon the Astrals ever again.”

This seems to force the god into contemplation. They remain in silence for a long time. Sunlight gradually returns, but when the Voice returns, so do the clouds.

_“You make an interesting point_

_But I fail to see why anything must be changed from thy path predetermined._

_Ye would only prevent the inevitable;_

_Why prolong it?”_

Luna grits her teeth. “Need there be a why? Is it not a central part of human nature to want to survive?”

This seems to be all the god requires, because he is silent for a long time after. The Light from the sun shifts enough through the small gap to let her know that the day is wearing away.

_“Thine impetuousness is novel!_

_But for a baser creature ye make an interesting point._

_Mayhaps this will provide me some entertainment for the while…_

_Very well, Oracle_

_I shall plead on the Adagium’s behalf_

_But ye shall find less sympathy in others than ye have found in me.” _

Lightning strikes the stone once more, and then the heavy presence of the god dissipates. Luna finds herself breathing easier suddenly, and realizes with a gasp that she had been taking only shallow breaths.

Beside her, Pryna whimpers. Luna places the hand not clutching her trident tightly to the poor thing’s head. “I know, dear, I know. Come on, let’s get back to the boys. Umbra, once we leave I’m going to need you to head to Noctis.”

He borks in return.

The trek with weighty limbs feels longer on the way back, but eventually the blue glow of the haven comes into view. Ardyn and the boys are holding a hand of cards apiece, and are peering suspiciously at one another. Citus is the first to see her; Luna sees his hand dip down a bit, which clues the other two in. Celer’s head snaps up to her, while Ardyn’s turn is more languorous.

“So, my dear. How did your audience with the Fulgurian Astral go?” He looks smug, but his eyes don’t have any of his characteristic schmooze to them.

“He agreed to speak with the others on your behalf, as a matter of fact.” _Although he seemed to agree partially out of boredom, _she doesn’t add.

Luna giggles at the gob smacked way Ardyn’s mouth falls. “It appears as though even immortals can be surprised.”

But he stands up, hunched and reaching in an odd way, and Luna begins to think maybe this is a bit more serious than she initially thought. His voice is quiet when he speaks, hardly more than a whisper that nevertheless echoes off of their stone environment. “He agreed, just like that?” Liquid begins running down his face, and at first Luna think’s it’s blood, but no, it’s black and viscous and a bit too filled with sinister magic to be blood, and his whisper becomes a roar. “Two thousand years of suffering, and he capitulates, just like that?!”

Celer and Citus dodge and roll backwards. They bring their weapons up to bear, but their arms are trembling with fear in a way they hadn’t had when facing the daemons. They look… betrayed.

Luna slams her trident into the ground before the dogs can start barking and anyone can attack each other. “Boys! Weapons down! Ardyn, stop it!” The boys drop their weapons after a pause, but Ardyn…

He jolts, as though realizing what he’s done, and looks to her in distress. “I, I can’t stop it!”

A hand on Luna’s shoulder nearly sends her into attack mode. “Sing, Oracle, sing the song of the light.”

“The song of the…” It comes to her, then, the words a young noctis had penned into their journal, of a song he was dreading learning for school. Gentiana hums a melody into her ear, and the words come out of her mouth unbidden.

It’s a tragic song, and tells the tale of fallen gods and a man who cannot watch the dawn, but where before she never thought of it beyond a laugh at Noctis’ childish complaining, now she sees the path that awaits them all.

But it _works_, for some reason. The black drops stop, eventually what’s come out gets absorbed back into Ardyn’s body. As soon he looks safe, she’s rushing to him and lowering him cautiously to the ground, careful to make sure neither of them brushes skin. Ardyn is panting like he’s just run a marathon, and he’s trembling so much Luna has to work to keep ahold of him, but the black has left his eyes, and he’s blessedly, miraculously alive.

That’s the important part.

They bundle him up and settle him close to where they set up camp last night, and since Luna and the others can’t touch him too much, they settle the boys on either side. They, at least, don’t appear to be negatively impacted by the blight, as the rest of them are.

(Luna has some thoughts on that. They don’t seem sick like Ardyn, but their eyes glow red when distressed, and it’s only after entering the cave that they began acting like people. What that means for when they leave the hollow, Luna doesn’t want to think about.)

Ardyn looks up at her pitifully, and Luna is struck with the image of a child that’s caught a cold. It’s so out of place given the tension in the air that she snorts involuntarily. Ardyn must hear her, though, because he gives the most offended look he can muster.

“Sorry, it’s just, you look like you caught a cold? Like a small child, huddled before a fire.”

His mouth twists up wryly. “Ah, yes. Another problem you can’t solve, I take it?” And just like that, the tension’s gone, swallowed up in the face of joy and laughter. _Maybe that’s the secret_? Luna thinks optimistically to herself. _Hope_?

She shakes her head. “No, but I can help it along. How about some soup? I know you don’t need to eat, but that doesn’t mean you can’t right?” She climbs back up to her cooking equipment on the haven.

“You aren’t giving up on me? Not even after that little show I put on earlier? Or how risky it is to keep me around?”

“Never. You’re stuck with me now, Ardyn.”

He huffs behind her, and she hears that unique scraping noise that sleeping bags make. When she glances over her shoulder, he’s settled more fully into the bag, and is leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. On either side of him, the boys are relaxing from their stiff positions, and she smiles at them, too. “Would you two also like to try some? I’ll make extra.”

Neither of them nods, but she thinks she sees the light of curiosity flare up behind their eyes. Smiling secretly to herself, she carefully adds in more of everything. After a small amount of time has passed, she looks back to the trio once more, only to find all three napping.

She lets them sleep longer than the soup requires to cook.

When they do finally start rousing, the little hole that was granting them sunlight has gone through the entire transition to darkness. She hands the boys each a little mug with a spoon, and gives Ardyn a whole bowl. All three inspect it curiously, but the boys only take a bite after Ardyn has done so.

None of them comment on the taste, but Ardyn does hum. “It’s so pleasantly warm. I don’t much feel temperature anymore, but this is… wonderful, my dear. Thank you.”

Celer sits with his cup in hand a long time before he takes a second bite, and she watches as his body slowly curls up around it. Snapping her fingers, Luna jumps down and sets up a small fire for them to sit around.

“You boys have never needed to manage temperatures, right? Are you cold now, as Shiva’s domain?” They both look a little pale in the face, but she has no idea what the cause might be, and since magic is out, mortal remedies will have to do. She only wishes she’d thought to check in with them sooner, or even thought about the fact that they don’t know how to evaluate their own needs.

They don’t really react to the goddess’ name, but they do shuffle closer to the fire, before almost melting into the warm light. Yup, they were cold; the color’s starting to come back to their faces.

She uses light brushes of fire magic to reheat their mugs, and encourages them to keep eating.  
Ardyn is watching them all with a peculiar expression. When she quirks a questioning eyebrow at him, he only shakes his head and mouths, _tell you later_.

She stands, dusts off her clothing, and drags her gear down to the edge of the haven. She resolves to sleeping nearer the boys, and seeing as nothing has shown up during her time down here it’s probably safe.

They make their way towards the entrance late the next morning, after everyone seems to be feeling better and up to moving. Luna nods to Umbra, who takes off well ahead of everyone else; she doesn’t think it’ll take him very long to return, given that they’re as close to Insomnia as they are. Hopefully someone will heed her call.

The boys grow more and more agitated as they approach the mouth of the cave, and by the time they can see the sun’s light both of them are shaking visibly. Luna draws the party to a stop, and turns to the men lingering at the back of the group.

“I know you’re no expert, Ardyn, but you know the most about the scourge between all of us, and there’s nothing I can think of the boys having that would make them leery of both sunlight and the runes of a haven. What should we do?”

Ardyn scratches at the scruff that’s grown a bit unchecked over their time in Fociaugh. “Well, their condition isn’t remotely similar to mine, but the cause does appear to be the same. Hmmm.” He turns to contemplate the boys, and Celer shoots upright from the slight slouch he’d adopted. Citus stares straight ahead.

Ardyn paces around them a few times, which only serves to make them more nervous. “When did you start coming to? In here, or outside?”

“In the cave, sir.” Citus barks. It reminds Luna of soldiers training for war, with the way he cuts the words.

“None of that, now. I want to help you, not order you around. So that means something about this cave set you free? I wonder if it’s the presence of a god, or the interference a cave might generate that prevents the mental psion rays that keep all of you MTs in line. Tell me, have you or any other MTs ever gone in caves before.

Celer shakes his head. “No. Although, they have tried to send some of us after the weapons of the Lucii, and never gotten them back.” He looks away at that. “Caves have just become a no-go for us MTs.”

Luna hums at that. She hadn’t known that the MTs were run by psion waves. “Shall we make some tin foil hats, then?”

Ardyn snaps his fingers. “Not a bad idea, although I think rubber might work better. The only questions is, where might we get rubber hats?”

Pryna tugs at the hem of Luna’s dress, and when Luna bends down to her, Pryna snaps up her wallet and charges out into the woods. Luna jogs after her to the mouth of the cave.

“Pryna, wait! Where are you going?” But after a few minutes with no sight of the animal, she huffs and walks back to the rest of the group.

“Down two messengers, are we my dear?”

“Yeah. I sent Umbra on a job, but I have no idea what Pryna thinks she’s doing. Hopefully she returns soon.”

“Well, dogs aside, what can you two tell me about the facilities you come from?”

They share a glance, grimace, and look forwards once more. “It’s, we’re not people, sir.” Citus says after a moment. “We have our containers that we’re kept in, and that’s it. We get pilled out to do work, and then we’re put back.”

Celer cuts him off before he can say anything more. “We won’t have to go back now, will we? I don’t want to think about going back.”

Luna twitches. “Of _course_ we aren’t letting you two return to those- those monsters! You’re staying with us. We just, need to figure out how to get you out of here with your heads intact.”

Ardyn rests his clothed forearm on her shoulder. “And what we’re going to do with them, where we’re going to hide them, how we’re going to keep them free of the empire, oh and not to mention, what we’re going to do about the rest of the MTs, who surely have similarly human faces hiding under those dreadful helmets.”

Luna deflates. She doesn’t know what to do about all of them.

Barking from the mouth of the cave draws her out of her depressed reverie. Pryna charges in a moment later, Luna’s wallet tucked into her handkerchief and two rubber chocobo hats from Wiz’ post clutched in her mouth.

While Luna sits gaping at her dog, Ardyn claps with delight. “Oh, you brilliant doggie you! Oh, the boys are going to look _snerk_ so fetching in these!” He twirls to her, a massive grin on his face. “I don’t know about you, but I’d say that solves our problems, at least as far as getting out of the cave goes. Now then, boys, I need to see if you’re allergic to sunlight. Step towards the entrance, and see if you burn?”

They gingerly follow him to the entrance. Carefully sticking a pinky into the light, the boys wait to see if anything happens. When they remain unburned after a moment in the sun, the stare in elation at each other.

Ardyn pats them on the back. “Well, boys, it looks like you won’t need to go back into those stuffy helmets. Might as well toss them into the cave. Oh, but, we’ll need to get you some better clothing; that armor will simply not do.” He draws them more fully out into the sunlight. Luna, Gentiana, and Pryna follow.

Outside, the sun is burning fierce and strong, and there’s nary a cloud in sight. Never before has Luna been so appreciative of the sunlight.

Out here, the boys look ridiculously pale and pasty, like they’ve never seen a lick of sunlight in their entire lives. For all Luna knows, that may actually by the case.

Neither Citus nor Celer hardly seem to know what to do with themselves. They look around in wonder, like this is the first time they’ve seen the world. They stare up, down, all around them. Citus takes his gloves back off, and runs his hands over the bark of a nearby tree, and Celer does the same with a nearby trail of water.

Luna tries to see the world as they are, as though everything is brand new and novel. It must be a wonderful way to see the world, even if it’s come after a lifetime of tragedy. It’s also incredibly sobering, but she tries not to dwell on that part of it. It’s easy enough to do, with those ridiculous rubber chocobo hats they’ve donned.

Eventually, though, she has to draw their wandering to an end. She wishes now that she’d rented chocobos, but they still might not have handled the armor well. So she resigns herself to more trudging through the wet woods, which have definitely seen some rain during the days they spent in the hollow.

So off they go, a merry band of five humans and one dog, as they head back to the post. They’ll decide how to move from there, and Luna should probably check in with her Empire handlers before they get suspicious and come to investigate.

With that thought in mind, she pulls out her phone to call them and try to assuage any concerns, and by the time she’s hung up with her supervisors, they’ve reached the road. Car drive blissfully by, unaware of the history being made by the roadside.

From there, it’s but a short and uninterrupted walk towards the post, before they’re back in the arms of what qualifies as civilization out here. Waving to Wiz, Luna throws herself into a chair and resolves not to move for at least an hour.

That hour turns into three, when she unwittingly dozes off. When she wakes, the sun is bearing down on her, and everyone has settled into their own activities while she’s been out. Given that she’s been more or less entirely in charge of this expedition, she doesn’t feel particularly bad for her inattention, but she does see that Gentiana’s disappeared.

Ardyn is reading a book at her left, while the boys are staring in awe at the chocobos, decked out in new clothing, with no armor in sight. Citus is currently being mothered by a particularly fluffy hen, and Celer seems to be stifling laughter at his predicament.

Luna turns to Ardyn. “Did Gentiana say where she was headed, perchance?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ without looking away from his book. “Didn’t say a word to any of us. Just left shortly after you fell asleep. Goodness knows where she might’ve gone.”

She watches him for a minute. He seems utterly content and entirely undesiring of leaving. She wants to ask, but how do you ask someone who’s always left you whether they’re going to stay this time?

Ardyn must read her question in her face any ways, because he holds out a hand clothed in a glove. “I’m not leaving this time.”

She places her hand in his, just like that winter those years ago. “What about your revenge?”

“It will come. I’m quite content to remain here, however. I suspect my revenge might be coming sooner than I had hoped.”

When Luna is twenty-one, the King of Lucis, his Shield, the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive all come storming into Wiz’ Chocobo Post. There are no weapons raised, mercifully, but the sheer number of people sends the nearest chocobos and babies into a frenzy, and Luna immediately guides everyone back out. She tells the boys to remain behind and help Wiz calm things down, and by the blessings of an Astral she hasn’t pissed off yet they remain unnoticed and unremarked upon.

She also carefully keeps herself between King Regis (by the Astrals how the years have stolen from him) and Ardyn, who throw each other wary glances that she doesn’t know how to interpret.

They meet in the much emptier Chocobo racing track, and Luna prays that the bizarre setting does something to ease this tension that hovers like storm front.

When the two sides- Actually no, that’s absurd. When the one man versus an entire, well-trained army does not engage in open conflict, Luna clears her throat and opens her mouth. “King Regis Lucis Caelum the One Hundred-Thirteenth, allow me to introduce you to Ardyn Lucis Caelum, elder brother of the first Lucii King and Adagium.” The army flinches at that name, but at least the King’s eyes are on her.

Luna still remembers the kind man that would’ve lost everything to save her, that she chose to protect as a girl. She sees his concern now, his guilt, and knows he regrets. She hopes she can use that to plead Ardyn’s case. Hopefully the mortal would be easier to persuade than the god.

Wait.

What even is he doing here?

She’d sent word to Noctis.

“King Regis, what’s going on here? Why did you come to find us?”

His eyes shift. “Noctis told me of your correspondence. He mentioned that you had gained some strange travelling fellows.”

“And you came to the conclusion that one of them was Ardyn, how?”

The King’s Shield Amicitia steps forward. “We have long thought that the Empire’s advances were at the whim of the Adagium.”

She reels, because… “Have you any proof of these accusations?” She doesn’t believe in them, not one bit, but it might explain why Ardyn is so sworn on revenge.

“MTs-” Luna freezes. “Are not robots, as we had previously thought, but clones infected with the Starscourge. The source of which, I’m sure I don’t need to remind you, is the Adagium.”

Ardyn, who has been silent and still behind her, laughs so sharply and bitterly that she whirls on him out of shock. There is uncomfortable shifting behind her, and she wonders how far they’ll be able to push these people before they start throwing weapons or spells.

Ardyn’s laugh chokes off abruptly, and when he looks down Luna can see some of the darkness from the cave bleeding in. She starts humming Noctis’ song softly, enough for only him to hear, but he glances at her and winks, and she relaxes. Just a smidge.

“I would never encourage the subordination of the home country to which the love of my life dedicated her existence.” He declares proudly. “And for you to even think that means that your royal archives are just as flawed as the rest of the records I’ve found in the short time I’ve been free.” He’s hissing the last part like a naga daemon, and she hums a bit faster under her breath.

Regis homes in on one part of that, though. “So, you have not incited any attack on Tenebrae? Or any other country.”

Ardyn sneers. “No.”

“That’s all we needed to hear. At ease, men. All squadrons except Drautos’, return to your stations.” And just like that, the tension bleeds. All of the men straighten, and although a couple look loathe to leave their liege alone, they go without protest. Where once there had been easily fifty people now stand seven.

“My apologies, but I had to put the council’s wagging tongues to rest.” He discards the sword he’d held at his hip into the ether. “Might we take this back to the post? My knees are feeling a little sore in the face of Great-Uncle Ardyn.” He offers the man behind her a tremulous smile.

She hears him shift behind her, and out of the corner of her eye she sees the darkness in his eyes retreat. He steps up to her side, and looks far more relaxed than he had previously. She squints up at him, and the glance he casts her is reassuring enough.

Their brief trek back to the post is much more relaxed than the journey, but there’s still a tense silence that hangs in the air.

Drautos sends her off to the side; no need to let the empire know that the king is here, out in the open where he might be struck down on her account. She walks back to the boys, who look to have been stiff with tension and worry during their absence. The three of them watch in silence as the monarch and ancestor talk, and the sun is well on its way to setting before they’ve concluded. Ardyn sees them watching, and waves them over.

“We’re done here my dears.”

Luna can’t believe it’s over, just like that. “And?”

“And? What do you mean, and?”

Infuriating, oblique man! She growls in frustration. “Well, what are you planning? Where are you going? What is your agreement, or deal, or whatever it is, with the king?”

Ardyn’s eyebrows shoot up. “My dear, what idea has possessed you, to think that His Majesty and I-” “That’s Regis to you, Uncle Ardyn!” “Regis and I have struck a deal?”

She purses her lips and squints at him, all of six years old again, and about to tell her brother off for bullying Noctis. “Why do I get the sense that you’re lying?”

He smiles guilelessly at her. “Perhaps you are simply imagining things?”

Her squinted eyes narrow further. “I’m coming with you, damn what the empire says.”

She goes anyways, with gentle encouragement from Gentiana and dragging her two newfound brothers (children?) along for the ride.

The empire, predictably, throws a fit, but with Ardyn safely ensconced within the walls, the Starscourge’s proliferation weakens with alacrity. Which means Luna is safe to hide with him, because it means that she doesn’t have to go out and heal the people as often (even though she totally does, under the watchful eyes of noctis precious Iggy aka Ignis and Cor Leonis of the Crownsguard). When she’s not out gallivanting like the most blatant refugee, she’s at home, training with Gladio, messing around with Noctis, and teasing Prompto.

Oh! Speaking of Prompto…

Early on in their stay, after backgrounds had been solidified and clearance granted, Citus and Celer were at a loss of what to do. They stuck close to her like ducklings, but it was too risky for them to venture out of walls once they’d made it in. Knowing what she did about appearances, and hazarding a guess from the double take several people took at first seeing her newly adopted brothers, Luna decides that before much else can happen she has to approach Prompto discreetly.

So she hunts him down at his school, and whisks him away from Noctis for the evening. She has him guide her around Insomnia, to his favorite photography spots to his favorite cafes. She also has him take her to the poorer parts of the city, and there she meets and makes nice with some of the Kingsglaive and helps the disenfranchised who had been fleeing to the safety of the walls.

And while they wander, she talks. She explains life outside the wall to him, the people she met, her hypotheses about these twin brothers she found…

Because she has his arm in hers, she feels as the tension mounts when she keeps talking on and on about _how they just look so much like you, Prompto, isn’t that funny? Do you have any relatives outside of Insomnia, perhaps?_

He collapses in fear and sobbing after only about twenty minutes of this, and immediately she feels bad. “Oh, Prompto dear, I didn’t mean to make you cry… Hush now…” She hums the same lullaby she sings to Ardyn on his bad days. He has them more and more, within these restrictive healing walls and under her careful healing ministrations.

The blubbering child calms after a while, hiccupping in the sweetest way, and afterwards he seems even more relaxed than he had before the tears. “I’m sorry, Lady Lunafreya, I just-”

“Luna, please dear. Any friend of Noctis is a friend of mine.”

“Luna. You know?” His voice is thin and scared, much like Ardyn had been after his first demonic episode. Her heart breaks for these boys and men, so plagued by the machinations of one empire that they suffer decades afterwards.

“Yes, and I neither care nor despise it. Citus and Celera are darlings, and they’re learning to boot. It would do them some good to meet you, I think. To see what can come of life.”

He scrunches his little red nose. “…They have my face, don’t they?”

She giggles at the cute picture he makes. “Yes, they do.”

He wails piteously, seemingly recovered from his bought of depression. “Awww, man! I can’t be the cutest guy in all of Insomnia when there are two others with my face!”

She indulges him and laughs some more. But she does stop him when he makes to move onwards in their tour. “Prompto. You need to tell Noctis. He deserves to know.”

With his back turned to her, she can’t make out the expression on his face, but the rise of his shoulders tells her all she needs to know about _that_ idea. “But, what if they hate me? Or cast me out, kill me, imprison me for information?”

“No, dear.” And, breaking protocol, she tells him something even she really shouldn’t know. “Besides, the king already knows about you. Marshall Leonis was the one who rescued you as a babe.”

He whirls on her. “They _what_?! Noct’s super badass, super unkillable uncle? Rescued me?”

She nods. “So, you have nothing to fear from the truth, and a lot to gain.”

That seems to give him something to think about, and he’s rather quiet for the rest of their meagre journey.

She hears nothing more on the subject, nor says anything more, until Noctis comes to her suddenly one night and hugs her fiercely.

“Whatever might this be for?” And by the Astrals is she beginning to sound a little too much like Ardyn; she might be spending too much time around him.

“Don’t worry about it, just, thank you, Luna. For everything.”

Meanwhile, Noctis and his burgeoning council are being brought into the fold on all matters regarding Ardyn, the prophecy, the fate of the world and Noctis’ own role to play in its salvation, at Luna’s behest and Ardyn’s utter dismay (Luna thinks it’s cute how attached to the young prince he’s become, given that in a few years time the gods would have had them become mortal enemies; now, all Luna can see is a doting uncle and a spoiled princeling). Predictably, Noctis’ and co., which includes Prompto now that the truth has come out, are angry, but they’re angry at the gods on behalf of the entire line of Lucis, including Ardyn. That seems to shut up the very last of his protests, and from then on he is the greatest accomplice in assisting Luna’s bid for freedom. 

It’s late one night that the boys, all six of them, sneak into her guest chambers in the Citadel; given the nature of events, everyone had coalesced into the suites in the palace.

Citus is shaking her bed and whispering fiercely at her in the dark, “Luna! Luna get up!”

She mumbles sleepily; it’s always harder to wake in the dark. “Boys? What is it?”

“We need to move, your highness. I have an outfit selected for you already, so please make haste.” That’s Ignis’ voice, and those are his glasses glinting in the city lights that travel into her room. “You won’t need to worry about being seen, so don’t worry about presentability.” Beside him, Noctis and Prompto are bouncing with, nerves?

She doesn’t prolong their wait any longer; she quickly throws on the black sweats and black beanie that Ignis has laid at her feet, careless of the six people in her room. Then they’re stealing out of the room and heading towards the bureaucratic side of the Citadel. She asks no questions, for fear of being caught on their mission, and gets no answers in turn.

It’s only once they’ve drawn upon the entryway to the throne room that she has any inkling of what they might be here for. Only once they’ve eased the door shut behind them does she dare open her mouth. She turns around and is struck with the pale blue light that the Crystal is showering the room with.

“Noctis! What-” And then a pair of figures moving further into the room stops her dead. It’s Ardyn and Gentiana, thick as thieves and hiding in the shadows, highlighted only occasionally by roaming beams of light coming from the crystal overhead.

Noctis voice rings out suddenly, deceptively strong and against everything a boy his age should be capable of, but then, Noctis is always surprising her. He’s garbed in the outfit of a king, suit and crown and all, and in spite of his lithe stature, he doesn’t look like he’s playing at ruler at all. His stance is wide and braced, and his body is angled entirely towards the shimmering crystal above them.

“Bahamut! I stand before you, Chosen King of the Light, to stand as plaintiff against the Astrals for their roles in the following charges: on the charge of creating and enabling the spread of the Starscourge, on the charge of damning the world, on the charge of demanding the deaths of one hundred fifteen royals and countless numbers of their subjects, of demanding the same of the fifty-five Oracles and countless of their subjects, and of their otherwise negligence and indifference to the suffering of those who reside under your care on Eos.” He takes and deep breath, and Luna tries to scrape her jaw from the ground. Whatever it was she had been expecting, it hadn’t been this.

Ignis, however, is nodding approvingly, Gladio is stone behind his ward, and the three boys, who are becoming more expressive by the day, are glaring with squinted eyes into the light of the crystal.

“I bring with me five witnesses to these atrocities, and promise to bring however many more that may be required to testify on the validity of these charges. Bahamut, leader of the Astrals, what say you in this charge?”

A sound like distant thunder erupts, low and menacing and yet not loud at all, and suddenly they are faced with four spectres. Ramuh lingers on their side, while the remaining three stand across from them. “_Thou beseechedst us with nary a contract in sight_?” The largest of the figures trembles slightly, and Luna presumes it is Bahamut that just spoke.

“You’ve surely heard Ramuh’s case on our behalf by now, Astrals, what have you to speak of it?” Ignis is brave and foolish, speaking up like that, but it seems as though her worry is for naught. The Archaeon shakes his head, but gestures at him to continue. “Surely there is an alternative solution that might be achieved through actions other than those predetermined for us.”

“_Indeed we have, Scion of the Scientia, and we are uncertain as to why things must deviate from their path. It seems to me as though things work out just find at the end; we risk unnecessarily, trying to do things your way_.” Leviathan’s voice is as cutting as a riptide and as dismissive as the see.

“Because we’re people! Because we deserve the choice. Because if you take that away from us, you’ve as good as killed us yourselves, and all for our loyalty to you, no less!” Prompto’s voice is more than a little afraid, but he screams fury at them just as fiercely as any coeurl. His brothers are silent behind him, but equally as angry, if their trembles are to be believed.

“_Insolence! Loyalty to us is the method by which you maggots have survived this long! I should drown you for this arrogance_!” Bahamut’s hand comes up just as Leviathan prepares for a lunge.

“_And what might you do, to belay and eradicate such a fate? If the price be not your lives, what could you sacrifice_?”

“Our connections. Heretofore, the line of Lucis-Caelum and its subjects sever our claimant of Astral magic. WE return its connections to the aether and swear by its use no more.” Luna has to stop her jaw from falling once more. That’s… one hell of a sacrifice. She startles, and hurries to offer her own pledge.

“The line of Nox-Fleurets, Oracles of Tenebrae, also forswear their claim to magic, in support of the Lucis-Caelums and in recognition of this case.”

Bahamut considers them for a long moment. “_A quest then, to prove your determination. The Empire of Niflheim is another source of the Scourge, though nowhere so significant as the Adagium. End it’s tyrannous reign with no magic, and we shall consent to this agreement_. _Prove that you are capable of surviving without us_.”

_Agreement? Noctis is charging them with crimes against humanity, not asking for their assistance!_ Ignis seems to approve of this quest idea, however. “We would like, for the record, to confirm: should we complete this task, you will enable and permit the healing of the Adagium and assist actively in the final purging of the Starscourge? You will endeavor to prevent such scourges in the future? You will deal with the Infernian’s betrayal?”

“_Yes_.”

The chamberlain’s notebook snaps shut. “Excellent, then we shall make haste.”

“_It must be all of you present on this journey. Including those who would hide in the shadows_. _Only the Oracle is not permitted to journey_.”

Luna, who had been happy to oblige the journey, gawks in betrayal. “What?! Why the everloving- why not?”

“_Should you fail in this task, the Oracle is more difficult to replace at present than the Lucis Monarch, given the approaching deadline_.”

She’s about to protest further, but then Noctis, Ardyn, _and_ Gentiana are all before her. “Luna, please. They’re right, you’re far more indispensable than any of us are.”

“My dear, loathe as I am to agree with them, on this matter they have the right of it.”

“Oracle, the place is yours to remain here. Remain and remain wary.”

She frowns mightily in frustration, a groan rolling out of her throat. “But, but I’ve-“

“We also have knowledge of the Empire, Luna, you needn’t worry.” Celer says.

_But you’re all leaving me behind to wait and cower behind the wall_. “I’m not happy about this, I’ll have all of you know.” She turns to the spectres and steps out from the group. “It is agreed.”

“_Then I wish the Chosen the best of luck. Pray tell all of you survive_.” And just as suddenly as they appeared, the figures are gone. Funny, how a room can seem dim even in the light of Crystal, when just previously it had held the presence of gods.

Noctis is a half a head shorter than her, even when she’s out of her customary heels. So even like this she has to look down to meet his eyes. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but you’ve already done a lot Luna. Let us work for once.”

And in his eyes Luna see Tenebrae burning around her, her mother’s corpse pinned like a butterfly or a sacrifice to the edifice of previous Oracles. And she understands, that this is his apology.

But it still burns.

“Will you tell your father?”

“Mmmm…” He looks to Ignis, who sighs.

“Yes, Noctis, we have to tell your father that we’re planning on invading Niflheim at the behest of the gods.”

“Damn. The old man is just going to worry.” Ardyn winks at Luna, then saunters over to his great nephew.

“Not to worry, dear boy, just leave telling your father to me. Now, we should all be off to bed. Especially if we wish to leave in the morning.”

Luna returns silently, hugging each of them on the way. She passes out dead asleep, exhausted from her conversations and the precipice upon which they have all found themselves, and by the time she awakes, she’s slept the better part of the morning away and has missed their departure.

The citadel feels emptier without the eight of them, so she endeavors to join the king on every matter she is able. She is occasionally taken out into the city by Nyx Ulric, one of the Kingsglaive living in the Immigrants’ district, and eventually the others tour her around, too. They have different haunts and different preferences to what Noctis and Prompto prefer, but it’s still better than her busy life on the road or her doldrum life in Tenebrae.

Every day, the people of the Citadel, from the Glaive to the smallest personnel, await news from Niflheim. But Luna thinks that, in this instance, no news is good news; had they caught and killed the Crown Prince of Lucis, surely they wouldn’t have kept things quiet?

Twenty-four days after their abrupt departure, the party of eight returns, wholly uninjured and victorious. They’re crowded by Citadel staff when the King, Clarus Amicitia, and Luna make it down the stairs, and after a quick round of hugs for everyone they’re swept off to the throne room.

Negotiations with the Astrals are quick, a mere “We survived, bitch, fulfilled your restrictions, too,” is all it really boils down too.

And then the connection within Luna tangibly severs, and her magic is gone.

But as she feels the last vestiges of it go, two pieces stand out.

One, that as she feels the light magic draining from her, so too can she feel the scourge draining from the earth, and from the man next to her.

And two, that her bond with Shiva is as strong as ever, even as her calls to the rest of the Astrals weakens. When she casts a questioning glance over to Gentiana, she’s met with the same mysterious smile the Messenger always wears.

Insomnia throws the biggest party in history when it hears the fall of the Empire. Luna has to return home suddenly, in order to renegotiate with a people unused to having autonomy. Noctis and Ardyn and all the others come with her, their duties done for the moment, and under the strength of the eight of them – Gentiana has vanished once more, to goodness knows where for goodness knows what – Tenebrae has a functioning government by the end of the month, with her seated atop a council not unlike what’s present in Lucis (blame Ignis for that one). She refuses to be called Queen, though, entirely on principle.

And then treaty negotiations begin. Tenebrae and Lucis once more reform their close bonds, and it becomes commonplace for the young royals – Prompto and his brothers, as well as all the other clones her brother is helping to rehabilitate in Niflheim, stand in as representative for the fallen Niflheim, and work just as hard to catch up on ruling as Luna does – to travel betwixt all of the countries.

Things stabilize; life is good. Luna finally allows herself to breathe, for the first time since she killed that poor, plague-ridden man on a winter’s eve in Gralea.

It’s a few years into Ardyn’s healing – Luna had been permitted to keep her healing powers for the duration of the treatment – and they’ve all begun sharing apartments across the various countries; their names are even on very single lease. They’re in Insomnia now, overseeing some of the reports coming from the outreaches of the newly established trade routes in Cleigne, when a thought occurs to Luna.

“Ardyn, why did you show up when I was a child?” She says, setting her latest report down.

Ardyn’s eyes gain a shifty haze to them, and all of the boys sit up at attention when he takes more than a minute to answer. “Ardyn?”

“Oh, very well.” He sighs sadly, then summons a book from his Armiger, a book that’s tattered and worn quite thoroughly by time. Luna can but grab a quick glimpse of the title, and it’s in a language that is entirely unintelligible to her. He pages through it for a moment, and finally settles upon a spread. It takes another long moment of staring for him to turn the book around to face them.

Luna is puzzled by what he’s showing them. It’s Aera, the first Oracle.

Evidently none of them get it, because Gladio opens his mouth. “That’s a Nox Fleuret, right?”

Ignis cuts in. “The first Oracle, Aera, who lived two thousand… Oh dear.”

Luna places her hand on his arm, now that she can without fear. “Ardyn?”

“We were to be married when it was revealed that I had healed the victims of the Scourge incorrectly. Things went wrong, and it never came to be. Officially.” His face is still and carved from marble; Luna can see the traces of the scourge bleeding and running around under his pale skin.

Ignis speaks up again. “The first Oracle never married, but she did have a daughter, with no mention made of who the father might be. Given what we know of Ardyn’s… erasure, from history, I suspect we can all do the necessary calculations.”

They all think on that for a moment. “So then, you’re Luna’s super-great-grandpa? _And_ Noctis’ super-great uncle?” Prompto sounds incredulous. Citus and Celer don’t seem to understand what the problem is.

Ardyn peers up at her. “Yes. You looked so much like her as a child, my dear. I see her in you and your brother.” Ardyn turns to Prompto and his brothers. “And yes, although the blood has likely worn thin through the many generations and, oh what was it Lord Scientia just said, two thousand years?”

“I won’t be calling you grandfather.”

Ardyn pats her hand in return. “No dear, I wouldn’t expect you too.”

“Was the dramatic exit necessary, though?”

Noctis grins, not unlike a cat. “Oh? A dramatic exit?”

Luna meets his grin with one of her own, conspiratory and sly. “Oh yes. He stepped up onto that tall balcony in my room, and fell backwards. I was convinced from then on that people could fly, and my nurse maids had to catch me several times after I tried to jump.” She pats Ardyn’s hand while the boys break out in raucous laughter. “Grandpa set a very bad example.”

His eyes open wide. “Did they really? What I wouldn’t have given to see that? Was that what that one day was about, when you were little?”

“You mean the day I fell, and you caught me? That was because I was trying to see you!”

He chuckles and pats her arm like the old man he is. “Ah yes. Well, as we used to say in Solheim, _corruptio optimi pessima_. I’m glad that I was able to bring you ‘round to my side, in any case.”

“Yes, Ardyn, now let’s go over that trade route one more time.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh this took me about two months to write? It's one of about eight ongoing wips for various fandoms. Also, this is my first (published) work for FFXV, but I have a couple of ideas to work on.
> 
> Of all the characters here, I have to say, writing Gentiana's voice was far and away the hardest. Something about her English accent throws me off, and she speaks more in riddles and less in archaics than anyone else does. And she speaks so little in the game that examples were few and far between.
> 
> Come find me at [altered-karma](https://altered-karma.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. I have a FFXV discord as well, but right now i'm alone in it ;; If you want it, just DM me or something.


End file.
